ineptcouncilfandomcom-20200214-history
Journey South
It had been three days since Commander Ivologin and his men had left. The 8th Expeditionary force had been given the task of finding the source that had led to the creation of the Imaginos. They struck out southeast from the gates of Osius, the most western Beaver town on the mainland. The 200 strong column of Beaver military and magi had passed through the town of Linmarsh last night where they restocked supplies of meats and of course a barrel or two of Linmarsh Amber Cider. Beyond the boundaries of Linmarsh there were no further Beaver settlements to the south, in fact it was believed that there were no settlements at all this far south. The men and women of the 8th would soon come to realise otherwise. As the fourth day was nearing its end the Commander gave the order to make camp. The orange sun of the early summer was setting through the trees as the Ivologin watched his men set up tents and start camp fires from the back of his stead. They had found a sizable clearing at the side of a road long abandoned, the origin of which was unknown. The Commander dismounted his horse, handed the reins to one of his bodyguards and entered his staff tent. “Put that thing away.” He muttered to a young Beaver officer who was leaning over a small folding table on which sat a rather plain map. “No one has mapped this area for centuries; the rivers aren’t even the same shape.” The officer looked embarrassed as he folded up the map and placed it into his breast pocket. He then turned and slumped into a wooden chair to the side of the tent. The Commander approached the table, poured himself a cup of cider then sat on his own chair. “Now, your highness, has this been the adventure you were expecting?” The commander took a sip from his cup, when no answer came he added “I’m sure the smallfolk of Linmarsh were happy to see the prince.” Again no reply came from the prince. Ivologin reached for the flask and topped up his cup. Obviously any effort to communicate with the young prince was futile to the commander sat back and continued to sip from his cup. The awkward silence was broken by the sound of horns blowing, this meant one thing, the forward scouts were returning. The prince jumped up from his seat and the tent flap, the cool evening air gently wafting into the interior. Ten riders approached the tent through the thoroughfare. The Commander emerged from his tent to see the commotion as the lead rider hopped off his horse and handed his reins to the beaver who rode next to him. The rider grasped the commander’s arm to greet him. “Commander, we should talk inside.” “Very well.” He held open the tent flap and let the rider and the prince enter before following them. “What cause for this secrecy captain?” “I thought it best that you knew first before the men.” The captain took off his helm and set it on the table. “Half a day’s march from here we spotted something none of us have seen before.” “No one has seen anything down here, be specific captain.” Ivologin’s curiosity was beginning to make him impatient. “In the foothills, there was a camp like this one. At least a hundred Goblins, maybe more.” The prince stood up from his chair, clearly thinking all this hype was for nothing. “Goblins are seen all over Ebisius.” “Quite right your highness, I have seen many Goblins in my years of service. But what I have not seen are Deer.” The commander so startled at this information almost chocked on his drink. “Deer, are you certain?” “As much I can be, they fit the descriptions, tall thin creatures, large growths above the ears, furs of browns.” “Is this where the Deer have been? Hiding in the southlands.” Ivologin sat down again staring into his metal cup. “They are with the Goblins in the camp?” “They are together yes.” The captain pulled back a chair and sat beside the commander. “Their tracks show they have come from the west. At least 50 Deer within the camp.” “Thank you captain, this is indeed curious can you do me one last favour before you take your rest for the night? Find the sage, send him to me.” Any Beaver military force travelled with at least one sage from The Order of Magi. The sages were used if any magic needed to be done, but more often than not in recent years they were used for no more than messengers between commanders due to their ability to transport themselves from one location to another. The Captain nodded, stood up from his chair and left the tent. The prince was beginning to look as if he felt quite out of his depth and lost and if the commander were to show his feelings as openly he would have appeared quite similar. ‘Deer’ he thought ‘I will be one of the first Beavers in centuries to meet Deer.’ A once grand civilisation aligned with Beardonia had been mentioned in ancient texts but they had long since disappeared and been forgotten. A few minutes later the tent flap opened again, the sun had set now, outside was dark but for the light of lanterns and torches. “You called for me commander?” A Beaver wearing the purple and gold robe of the order stood in the entrance of the tent, he carried an old ragged tome under his left arm and crooked wooden staff in the other. “Yes I need you to take a message to Lord Commander Myatlev.” “Gladly, I would love to be back in civilisation if only for a brief moment.” “You won’t be long.” The commander handed the sage a parchment. “For his eyes only, return as soon as you have spoken to him.” The sage placed the parchment in the bag that hang from his belt and nodded. “As you wish.” He then bowed his head, uttered something in ancient Beaver and was consumed in swirling green smoke. When the smoke settled he was gone, the commander and the prince were once again left alone in silence. Part 2